Come On In My Kitchen
by a-muses-inspiration
Summary: How does a welloff blonde gentleman on a business trip to France end up in the floury kitchen of a redhead's patisserie? DMGW


**Disclaimer:** not mine, don't sue.

**o0o**

The sky above the coastal village of Arromanches was streaked with uneven strokes of heavy grey and rife with brooding purple bruises, as if heaven's architect was having a bad day and let it show through his work. Fishermen raced about the jetties, nets in hand, trying to get boats and catches in as quick as possible.

Draco Malfoy stood in a large puddle, moon blonde hair hanging morosely over his steely eyes, robes soaked and muddy. He cursed for the umpteenth time under his breath and stalked moodily to a different bit of the lake that he guessed was supposed to pass as a street. He had no idea what he was doing here. A business trip to France definitely didn't mean standing in a puddle to _him_.

He pulled the hood of his cloak down further over his face. Villagers were scurrying into houses all around him, shooting glances at him from under their hats and umbrellas. He guessed it was because he was _foreign_, heaven forbid. The young man sighed, and was just about to move to yet another puddle when a hand caught his elbow. He looked down with mild surprise and was ushered across the cobbles to a small an quaintly decorated building. He just managed to see the words 'Patisserie' and 'Chocolaterie' out of the corner of his eye before he was pushed through the door.

"Asseyez-vous monsieur, sil-vous plait. Parlez-vous Francais? Anglais?" the figure in front of him was winding its way round tables and chairs to a wood and glass counter at the other side of the room, taking of its cloak as it went. Wait, as _she_ went. Draco found himself staring at a slim figure wearing holey jeans, a scruffy jumper, and a striped apron. Long crimson hair was falling out of its loose braids down her back. She turned to face him from behind the counter and he yelped.

"Weasley?" Ginevra Weasley jumped.

"Errm… Hello?" Malfoy lowered his hood, still staring at her disbelievingly. Her face adopted the same shocked expression as his.

"Oh…" Ginny looked away quickly. "You were getting wet," she said lamely.

"I'm perfectly aware of that, Weasley," he snapped at her, folding his arms across his chest and narrowing his eyes, reflections of the stormy sky outside.

"Well, I… You can always go back out there, if you wish," she changed her tone, flinging her cloak into a corner. Malfoy laughed mockingly.

"I can see you haven't lost your redhead's temper, Weasley. Tell me, do your pastries bite back?" he drawled, smirking. Ginny just scowled.

"Ginny? Mademoiselle? Ginny!" a soft French voice preceded the young dark haired girl that appeared from the back of the café. "Oh…" she stopped, seeing the strange man and the look on her mistress' face.

"Aurelia, this is Monsieur Malfoy. Please make sure he is comfortable," she smiled at her young friend, glared daggers at Malfoy, and left for the back rooms. Draco turned to the new arrival, looking her up and down.

"Bonsoir, Aurelia," he gave a little bow, eyebrow quirked.

**o0o**

"We might as well start closing early, Aurelia. I don't think anybody will be out in this weather," Ginny was just gathering tablecloths for the washing machine when the bell on the door tinkled. Aurelia poked her head round the door into the café.

"Monsieur Armand!" she hissed back to Ginny.

"Armand? Agh! Look at me," she tugged at her scruffy jumper and wayward hair.

"Just go, Mademoiselle," Aurelia gave the redhead a little push out of the room.

"Mademoiselle Ginevra," Armand spoke softly with the seductive accent of the French aristocracy. He bowed with a flourish, producing a bouquet of flowers out of thin air. Ginny blushed, smiling.

"Armand, merci," she gasped and giggled a little as he took her pale hand and kissed it gently. Behind him, sitting moodily at a table, Malfoy cleared his throat. "Errm… Armand, this is Monsieur Malfoy. Would you, err, like a drink? We're still open," she edged away from the table a little, flowers in hand.

"Thank you, mademoiselle. Ze usual, if you please," he sat down opposite Malfoy as Ginny scooted away.

"Bonsoir, monsieur. Such awful weather we are having, no? I take it zat you are from England?" Malfoy nodded, scowling slightly. "Ah, a most beautiful country," he smiled from underneath a perfect moustache.

"You look a little well-off to be in such a," Malfoy cleared his throat. "_Small_ village,"

"Ah yes, yes… I can see what you mean. Well, it is beautiful here, no? And ze scenery is not ze only pretty thing to look at," he winked, nodding in the direction of the counter, where Ginny was searching for the hazelnut syrup. Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. So this greasy frog actually had a _thing_ for Weasley? Incredible. "So, where is it zat you are staying, monsieur?"

"Funny you should ask that. I haven't a clue," Draco scowled. "I was meant to be picked up about," he checked his watch. "Five hours ago,"

Ginny appeared behind him, a tray balanced on her arm. She unloaded a cup of something hot and a small plate with a flaky pastry on it. "You didn't want anything, did you, Malfoy?" she looked down at him, almost glaring.

"Not from you, Weasley," he drawled. "It might have another one of _these_ in it," he picked a long scarlet hair off the back of an empty chair. Ginny snatched it off him, scowling.

"Merci, mademoiselle," Armand smiled warmly, reaching for Ginny's hand again. She moved away quickly, saying something about washing up. Malfoy smirked at the Frenchman.

"Well, she's _obviously_ in the bag,"

"Ah, monsieur, I know zat her heart says what her body cannot," he said wistfully, stirring his drink.

Malfoy was about to retort with something cuttingly witty, when a pair of headlights shone through the tall windows. He leapt out of his seat. "The car, about bloody time," he picked up his soggy jacket from the radiator no a side wall of the café.

"Bonsoir, monsieur," he said, with a hint of something other than politeness in his voise, and swept out of the door. The bell tinkled cheerfully, sending Aurelia scrambling out of the back room.

"He forgot his cloak!"

"Oh, just burn it, Aurelia. He's probably got a team of orphaned Thai children to make him another one," Ginny scowled, peering out into the shop. Armand was still there. "Gah! I wish he'd hurry up and go too," she hid in the kitchens and back rooms until her suitor finally finished his drink.

"You should talk to him, mademoiselle,"

"I should move country again," muttered the redhead.

**o0o**

Huzzah… Fanficage!

OK, so it's not actually very good, and doesn't have much of a plot, and will probably be abandoned, but hey. Not every story can be perfect!

Review it pretty please, and I will give you a biscuit as big as your head!

Incidentally, one of the potatoes out of my garden was as big as my head. Just thought I'd say.

.:love:. .naomi. -xxx-


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